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Oscar waved delightedly at the bubbles Lynn blew in his direction, chubby bare legs splashing in the shallow water. Through the open bathroom door she could hear Benjamin and Stephanie’s voices but not the words. They were cleaning up the kitchen while she gave Oscar his nightly bath. Letting him feed himself half-naked saved on laundry but required a rigorous wash later.
After Benjamin’s initial shyness—one she’d shared—he had fit right into their little family meal. Lynn had broken the ice by recounting his capture of Rascal and the conversation had taken off from there.
Stephanie had quizzed him on all the places he’d lived and when that topic had been exhausted it took a natural turn to Lynn’s childhood. He’d been surprised to hear of her unusual upbringing, as most people were, and had noted down the name of her father’s band so he could look him up online.
Lifting Oscar from the tub, she wrapped him in a towel and scrubbed him dry. It was his least favourite part of bath time and he shrieked and fretted, only quieting when she released him. He stumbled across the hall to his bedroom, giggling at his escape, and she followed. Fastening his diaper and wrestling him into his pajamas was the next hurdle, but finally he was ready for bed, sweet and clean.
He tucked his head in the curve of her neck as she carried him to the kitchen. “Oscar’s come to say goodnight.”
Stephanie paused in drying the dish she held and kissed his temple. “Night, Oscar.”
Benjamin, wiping down the counter, appeared at a loss when she approached him. After a slight hesitation he patted her son on the back with gentle fingers. “Have a good sleep. See you later, little guy.”
She laid him in his crib, turned on his music and nightlight, and shut off the overhead light. For a minute or two she stood in the soft dark patting his back, before whispering goodnight and closing the door until only an inch of space remained. By then he was standing again, gripping the rails, but that was all part of the ritual. His wordless complaints followed her down the hall as she rejoined Stephanie and Benjamin.
“Is that it?” Benjamin folded the dishcloth and draped it neatly over the faucet. “He’s done for the night?”
“Usually. He’ll probably squawk a bit, maybe even cry a little, but generally he goes to bed easily.” She lifted the bottle of wine Benjamin had brought, which was still half full. “I wouldn’t mind a little more of this. Anyone want to join me?”
“I’m heading home.” Stephanie stretched her arms over her head, almost brushing the ceiling. “I’m going to do my yoga, have a shower, and curl up in bed with a good book.”
Benjamin’s brow furrowed. “I thought this was home.”
“I have a suite in the basement, with my own entrance and everything.” Stephanie opened the baby gate and stepped through. “It was nice to meet you. I expect I’ll see you around.” A moment later, the click of the door at the bottom of the lower flight signalled she was gone.
Lynn waggled the bottle at Benjamin. “How about you?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, still staring down the stairs as if shocked at Stephanie’s rapid departure. Then he blinked and gave Lynn a half-smile. “Not for me, thanks. I have to be at the rink at four-thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Four-thirty? What on earth for?” Lynn poured herself a couple swallows and gestured with her glass toward the living room.
Benjamin followed her to the couch and sat next to her. “I may have lost my temper with the team after the game today and scheduled a practice for five.”
“That sounds like punishment, all right.” She turned on the monitor she kept on the coffee table. Oscar may have been only a few metres away but it was comforting to be able to see him. He was now sitting down, and even as she watched he flopped onto his side. His sleepy mutters indicated he was well on his way to dreamland.
“It’s more of a test.” Benjamin slid down on the cushion so he could rest his head against the back, lacing his fingers and resting them on his stomach.
“What do you mean?” She lifted her feet and turned her back against the arm of the sofa. Her toes were millimetres away from Benjamin’s thigh and she suppressed the impulse to tuck them under his warmth.
He directed his answer to the ceiling. “I told them it was optional. The players that show up will be demonstrating their commitment to the team. The ones that don’t”—he rolled his shoulders in a gesture of resignation—“well, the ones that don’t will have to be dealt with. Though what power I have with an owner that is actively wishing for our failure is uncertain.”
Impulsively, she brushed a strand of hair that had caught at his temple, tucking it back into place. One silvery thread glinted in his short sideburn. He was five years younger than her—a discovery made easy by the internet—but tonight he looked worn and tired and five years older.
He rolled his head toward her and their gazes caught. Her fingers, toying with the silky strands of his hair, were trapped between his cheekbone and the couch and it seemed perfectly natural to let her palm curve against the sweep of his jaw. Her thumb brushed across the bristles forming on his cheek to the corner of his mouth.
His lips opened and the tip of his tongue tickled her thumb.
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LYNN’S PUPILS DILATED. Benjamin tilted his head a fraction and drew her thumb deeper in his mouth. Her fingers tightened on his skull.
Releasing her with a quiet pop, he took the wineglass from her hand and placed it next to the monitor on the table. Oscar lay flat on his back, arms and legs splayed like a starfish, limp in sleep.
He shifted position, his knees pressing into the seat cushion, one elbow on the back of the sofa, the other on the arm behind Lynn. “I have to go soon.” He should go now. Now, before he did something they’d both regret.
“I know.” Her voice was low and throaty.
A rush of desire rippled down his spine. Most of the time he could forget about the night they’d spent together. Most of the time he could suppress those heady, delicious memories.
Not this time.
“I could stay a little longer.” He let his eyes drop deliberately to her mouth and then raised them slowly to meet hers again. “If you want.”
“I want.” Lynn slid her feet past his knees and wrapped her ankles around his calves. Her hands gripped his hips and she gave a tug. “God, do I want.”
He prayed this wasn’t a mistake. When Lynn had recounted tales of her vagabond childhood, it hadn’t taken a genius to realize she’d built an adult life that was the complete opposite. She had chosen to grow roots, to settle down, to limit change and upheaval as much as she could. His life, on the other hand, was unpredictable and uncertain, forced to bow to the capricious whims of sport and fate.
He was absolutely the wrong man for her.
He should get up and leave.
He didn’t.
Without taking his gaze from hers, he lowered his body, his hips cradled at her core, his elbows supporting most of his weight on the arm of the sofa, his chest ever so lightly brushing her breasts. Her breath grew ragged, puffing against his throat, and she licked her lips.
Then, and only then, did he let his mouth sweep hers.
The heat was instantaneous. It sparked down his nerves, swelled his cock, hammered in his veins. He’d intended to keep the kiss cool, flirty, but that thought melted when she embraced him with arms and legs so tightly she lifted off the cushions.
Shuffling backward, Lynn clinging to him, their mouths still melded together, he pulled her flat on the wide sofa and stretched out on top. His fingers threaded through her hair and when her tongue touched his they spasmed involuntarily. She gasped.
He dragged his mouth away. “Sorry.” He muttered the hoarse apology against her neck.
“No. Do it again.” She lifted her chin. “Just like that.”
He tugged her hair and she moaned. Her willing surrender surged straight to his hardening cock. Another tug had her rocking her centre against him in short, frantic jerks. He didn’t remember turning her on this way two years ago but was more than okay with giving her what she needed now.
Her nipples pebbled, so hard he felt them against his chest through the layers of clothing. Clothing he needed to get rid of. Keeping one hand gripped in her hair and nibbling her neck with tiny bites and teasing kisses, he worked the other hand between their bodies to undo the buttons on her blouse. She gave no objections to his actions, even when he laid her bare.
A lacy bra wrapped her soft, succulent flesh. He trailed kisses from her neck to her collarbone to the upper slope of her breast, and then lapped her nipple, the fabric rough against his tongue. Sliding further down her body, he wound both hands into her hair again and twisted the strands as he engulfed her nipple and gave a strong, sucking pull.
The force of her reaction lifted them both off the couch. She screamed low in her throat, her lips clamped shut, her body wracked with shudders. In awe at her responsiveness he kept up the pressure until she collapsed, boneless.
“I can’t...no more...I need...” Her incoherent panting was an aphrodisiac like no other.
He gave her breast one last, tender kiss and eased his grip on her hair. “Shhhhh. I’ve got you. Take a minute.”
Propping himself up on one elbow, he stared down at her. A red flush heated her chest and neck and she’d thrown one arm over her eyes. The pulse in her throat called for him to kiss it but he resisted.
He hadn’t intended things to move so fast. Somewhere at the back of his mind he’d thought they would kiss and cuddle and explore each other slowly. He certainly hadn’t anticipated Lynn’s sensually violent response.
Now he ached to plunge into her, to take her while she was limp and replete. But they were in a much different place than they had been on their previous night together. Then, they’d been strangers seeking oblivion from the trials of their separate lives. Now, they were friends, with careers that intertwined in multiple ways.
Having sex would more than complicate things. It would create an entanglement no one could unravel.
“Oh. My. God.” Her voice was slurred and drunken. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He kept his voice light, locking away his regretful thoughts. “I assume that’s a good thing.”
She gave a tiny nod, as if she needed all her energy simply to draw air into her lungs. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that way before.”
He rested his hand on her belly and she jerked, but before he could pull away she lowered her arm from her face and trapped his palm against her skin. Her eyes opened, still bleary with satiation. “I need a minute. Then I can take care of you.”
“That won’t be necessary.” His cock jerked in disagreement but he ignored it. He could still salvage their relationship if he left now. Because as much as he wanted Lynn to be his lover, he needed her to be his friend. “I really should be going home. I have to be up in a few hours.”
“You could stay.”
Her statement ended with an upward lilt that seemed to echo his own reservations. Was she already regretting the last few minutes? “Thanks for the invite. But I don’t think so.” He shifted to a sitting position, making sure she didn’t slide off the cushion and onto the floor as he did so.
She found her balance and perched next to him, hair in a sexy tangle, blouse hanging invitingly open. “Are you sure?” Her eyes dropped to the still noticeable bulge in his pants.
He clung to his decision. “I’m sure.” He was also sure of something else.
If his future held more than friendship with Lynn, staying the night would be a mistake. She wasn’t ready for that step, and neither was he. It was the wrong thing to do.
And for once in his life, he wanted to do something right.